Repeat(64)
And it’s stupid because I basically knew this before. How the attack wasn’t random. After the detective’s visit, however, it’s harder to ignore the evidence and slap on a happy face. Over the next couple of days, I start finding that loud noises make me jumpy. Getting my mind to still so I can sleep is next to impossible. Despite spending our one mutual day off a week having a sleepin before wandering around the Portland Museum of Art (very cool) and hitting up The Holy Donut, my inner peace is trashed. After almost a week of this behavior, Ed sends me back to the doctor. Now I have pills. Some to help me sleep and others to keep me chill. There was also a big lecture about trying various non-narcotic calming techniques or risk being sent to a shrink. Because spending more time with doctors and sitting around in waiting rooms would be awesome. Not.
I take my pills, try to act serene, and fill my Instagram account with happy things. Pictures of book covers, videos of Gordon doing his doggy smile and wagging his tail, and the golden hairs atop of Ed’s toes. God knows why his big ass feet amuse me so, but they do. My account now has two followers, Ed and Leif. They insisted, though, that my account stays locked against all others. It makes me a little self-conscious to know the Larsen brothers are watching, but whatever. I also don’t miss another self-defense class because survival instinct. Ed suggests we try yoga sometime, learn some meditation. While the thought of watching him bend, stretch, and breathe is a good one, I kind of like us having a few nights free for TV and sex. You know, spending quality time together.
Despite the doctor’s orders for tranquility, the movie watching stays true to the favorites of previous me. The Lost Boys and Robocop are my new favorites. Ed tries to calm things down a little with When Harry Met Sally and Beaches, but both left me in tears. Happy ever after tears for the first film and my heart has been torn out, stomped on, set aflame, and reduced to ash for the second. I swear, my eyes are still red the next morning. Though a good cry is kind of cathartic. Cleansing, almost. Ed, however, just yawned and generally looked pained. Leif fled the condo to go meet Shannon. So yeah, the movies stay mostly violent.
If I was occasionally chafing at the level of protection provided by Ed and Frances before, it’s nothing compared to life post Detective Chen’s update. I’m not even allowed to step foot out the shop door. Ed texts every hour or two to check I’m still both breathing and where he left me. Iris refuses to leave me alone. I can’t even cross the street to get coffee in case my hater has decided to take up vehicular manslaughter or something. Imagine how messy that would be. So unless Frances is hovering/visiting, we have to wait until my friend from the café has time to make a delivery, something Iris totally talked the poor boy into. Every day he not so subtly asks how things with me and Ed are going. Just on the off chance we’ve broken up overnight and I’m now free to go on that date with him. The day after Beaches, my bloodshot eyes gave him such hope. Disappointing him daily just so I can get my caffeine fix seems harsh. But such is life.
“Hey,” says a familiar voice late Saturday afternoon. “Get your bag.”
I get off my knees, having finished helping my tiny customer and her mom find books about elephants. (I tried selling her on my personal favorite, Curious George, but she was adamant in her choice of animal so Babar it was.) “Tessa. What are you doing here?”
Behind the counter, Iris is beaming. “Your friend is here to take you out. Isn’t that lovely?”
It would be rude to say no. Honest, but rude.
“We’re getting your hair fixed and buying you something decent to wear.” The expression on her face leaves no doubt as to her opinion regarding today’s jeans and T-shirt combo. It’s a Jane Eyre quote tee this time. My new favorite book. To be fair, though, the top pick changes at least weekly.
“Do I have any say in this?” I ask, curious. And yes, a little pissy.
Tessa sighs. “Don’t be difficult. Ed and Leif need to get some stuff done and I’m pretty much only here as a favor to them. But let’s face facts, your hair does need fixing. It was kind of cute, but now it’s grown out a bit and it’s not working at all.”
“It has looked better,” says Iris, tipping her head this way and that. “That’s true.”
My hand goes to my head in protest, but I don’t bother to refute them. Beyond a certain point, not even some styling product can fix things.
“I promised I’d be nice.” Tessa crosses her arms. “Who knows, this might even wind up being fun.”
“All right.”
And I didn’t even bother checking with Iris because this has all obviously been planned behind my back. I’m almost used to my life being organized by other people. It’s crazy. The tension of living this way, of waiting for the next attack, is doing what remains of my head in. But I prefer to avoid the weird emotional distance the pills provide unless it’s absolutely necessary.
Out on the street, Tessa doesn’t stride ahead. This time, she sticks to my side, keeping an eye on our surroundings. Like something could happen at any moment. She’s been well coached by the love of my life. Maybe I should be more appreciative of all the care they’re taking. It means I’m loved or at least wanted. People care about me. But the burden of it, the lack of freedom involved, gets me down.
Still, I try to relax. No way anyone would dare attack me when I’m out with Tessa. She wears her elegance like a superpower.